


The Wager

by runawaygypsy



Category: Oakley, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Unrelated - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, unrelated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygypsy/pseuds/runawaygypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oakley meets an older woman at a bar and bets he can prove he's not the baby she thinks he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wager

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr- I decided to post here as well.

She primped herself in a small mirror she had pulled from her clutch, her fingers deftly running through the tangles of her hair, eyes bright as they observed her own reflection and considered what she saw there.

Oakley leaned against the wall, his right leg crooked, his foot propped up, lean and languid, a cigarette between his lips held there purely by balance. He watched her, this woman, fascinated by her. She was older than he, if only by a few years, yet he was drawn to her, the proverbial moth to her flame. She was a study in contrast to him. Where he was light, his head full of loose blond curls, she was dark, raven hair straight as a bone that hung down halfway on her back. Where he was all angles, cheekbones, jawline, chiseled nose, she was all softness and curves. He bet, should she stand to face him, she would barely reach his shoulders. Yet, she was gorgeous, something she seemed unaware of art this juncture.

He gathered his composure and strolled over to her, tamping the cigarette out in the nearest ashtray. As he got closer, their eyes caught in her mirror. She turned to face him, startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, shrugging.

She put her mirror down. “Oh, no worries,” she answered, “I was just surprised.” Her voice was as sweet as honey, melodic and low. “My name’s Serena.”

He nearly forgot himself for a moment, then stumbled over his name. “They call me Oakley.”

He took the seat next to her, not waiting for an invitation, and when she didn’t protest, got comfortable. “God, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen,” he gushed, forgetting all rules of decorum.

She blushed. “Well, thank you.” She cast her eyes down, then, realizing they had unconsciously settled on his crotch, quickly pulled herself together. “I’ve seen you around here. Are you on holiday?”

Oakey nodded. “Dragged here by my mum and dad and about a million other relatives.” His smile was bold, confident, as though he was trying to charm her.

"Your family, huh? How old are you?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

His smile stayed. “Twenty in a month, though you’d never guessed it, would ya?”

She nodded. “Not at all. That being said, you’re still a baby.” She fought the urge to reach out and cup his cheek, just to feel the downy beard that was growing there.

Oakley scoffed. “I’m not,” he replied indignantly. “I would bet you, I’d be the best you ever had.” His eyes twinkled, an irrepressible gleam in them.

Serena hesitated, absorbing where the conversation had gone. “You don’t even know me,” she said almost sadly. “I could be married to a jealous husband.”

He shook his head. “I already know you’re not.” He motioned to the bartender who nodded back.

"What if I’m a lesbian?" She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

He let out a guffaw. “I dare say that, were you of that persuasion, I wouldn’t have glimpsed that once over you gave my, erm, crotch.” The way he looked at her made her tingle. He leaned his elbow down on the table and smiled slyly.

She leaned toward him. Quietly, she said, “Alright, challenge accepted.”

They were still in the bar and Oakey already had the air of victory as he rose, offered her his hand and gloated as he led her out. They got no further than the street. He leaned her hard up against the brick of an old building, crashed his mouth into hers, his hands insistently kneading her breasts.

She pushed back, forceful enough to nearly knock him on his ass. “That’s not how we’re going to do this,” she said sternly. “Your bet, but my rules.”

Stunned, he did nothing but blink. “Alright.” He seemed a bit hesitant, running his fingers through his shaggy blond curls. “Where would you like to start?” Without waiting for her answer, he closed in on her, standing, as he had guessed, a whole head above her, yet she hardly seemed threatened. Softly, he placed his hands on her shoulders, a stopgap method to bridge the space between them and draw her nearer to him. “We could start here,” he whispered.

"Yeah, here’s good," she found herself answering as she raised herself on tiptoe, slid her hand up his chest to twine around the back of his neck like a lonesome vine and angled her face up towards his. She closed her eyes and felt his lips brush just across hers, broad sweeps from supple lips. Pulling him closer to her, she took the initiative and dove her tongue into his mouth. He moaned in appreciation. Breathlessly, she withdrew. "Not bad," she shrugged.

Oakley deflated. “Not bad? Not bad?” He pulled her into him, wrapped her in his long arms, binding her to him. Lifting her up, he kissed her passionately, hungrily, letting her feel his need. This time, it was she who moaned, her true feelings on reckless display as she arched her back pushing her breasts up to him and wrapped her legs around his hips. He backed her up against the building again, grinding his emerging hardness into sex. “Shall I take you here?” he growled.

Doe-eyed, Serena responded, “No.” She shook her head. “Let’s go back to my flat.” She lowered her legs, sliding down from his embrace until her feet were on the pavement. “It’s not far.”

He grasped her hand as she began to walk away from him, her figure illuminated by the lone street light, a dark angel. They walked down two lonely city blocks, passing no one else, occasionally stopping to stoke the fire that grew between them, a deep nuzzle, a caress, a sigh. 

She stopped in front of a two-story brick building. “We’re here.” Pulling him to the side of the building and around the corner, only to stop at a doorway hidden by a small arbor. She dug her key out of her shorts pocket and unlocked the door, then pulled him inside with her. 

He was instantly upon her again, kicking the door closed with his foot. His kisses trailed from her lips, down her neck, resting at the cleft of her shoulder blade. His hands worked at her clothing, lithe fingers gently pulling her blouse away, fingertips dancing against her skin, caressing her softness.

Serena’s hands gravitated toward his jeans, deftly undoing the buttons of his fly, sliding her fingers between his taut stomach muscles and the waistband of his pants to find his cock waiting for her. She felt it twitch with the brush of her touch.

Oakley grunted with approval as she circled him with he fingers and began slowly working him. His own hands cupped her now-naked breasts, kneading and squeezing, teasing her buds into hardened nubs. She sighed as he ran one of hands over her stomach and slid his fingers into her shorts, pressing against her mound and seeking entry to her folds. His fingers danced along her swollen sex, finding her wetness, sliding into the heat of her and finding the throbbing bundle of nerves waiting for his touch. He swirled his index finger around it, made her hips buck towards him as she moaned in appreciation. “You’re so wet for me,” he hissed as he backed her into the kitchen.

Her hands continued to work him, his hardness becoming even more pronounced until she felt him begin to twitch. He pulled away from her, withdrawing his fingers, wrinkled from her drenched sex, and moved her hand away from his cock. “Do you like what you feel?” he purred.

She nodded. “I want to feel you inside me,” she sighed.

Oakley smiled. He tucked his fingers into the fabric on the sides of her shorts and pulled them and her sodden panties down, falling to his knees in front of her so he could pull them from her feet and toss them away. He leaned closer to her waiting sex and inhaled the scent of her before diving his tongue into her, flicking it against her clit as he held onto her hips. He felt her hands reach down and her fingers slid into his curls, pulling him closer, pressing him into her. He opened her folds even more and his finger found its way inside her, crooking to hit her sensitive spot, working her from the inside as well as the outside. Her cries became more insistent, broken by ragged breath that mimicked the rhythm of her hips. She clenched around his finger, her chorus reaching a crescendo, then let go of his curls and went limp, breasts heaving as she gasped for air.

He stood and as he came up, her fingers curled around the belt loops of his jeans, forcing them down, his boxers going with them. She smiled as his cock was released. “Mmmn,” she hummed in appreciation. She began to lower herself down, ready to return the favor, but Oakey’s hand caught her and he pulled her back up, laying passionate kisses on her lips, letting her taste herself on him.

"It’s all about you, tonight," he whispered, slipping his tshirt over his head.

She reached out to rich his chest, but he pressed himself close to her, shimmied his jeans the rest of the way down his long legs and kicked them away. She kissed his chest, licked at the salt of his skin and felt his hands upon her hips, lifting her up to the counter. It felt cool and hard against her wet heat and she squirmed until he pulled he closer to him, the tip of his manhood pressed against her entrance. She wiggled closer even, letting him penetrate her, his cock hitting against her clit and sending shockwaves through her entire body. She shuddered as he slid himself slowly in, his length filling her. “Oh, you like that?” he asked coyly.

"Fuck me, Oakley," she groaned. She leaned her head back, giving him access to her throat, and felt his tongue run over her skin, his teeth nibble at her collarbone. He thrust into her as he bit down, sending her senses into overdrive. She writhed against against him, feeling his full length inside her. She was electricity and molten lava rolled into one. 

Oakley arched his back to give himself access to her breasts, flicking her hardened nipples with his tongue before covering one with his mouth, working it with his lips, rolling his tongue around it, eliciting first sighs, then then moans, then cries as she bucked against him in ecstasy, screaming his name. He waited until her cries had subsided, until her hips slowed their movement, until her breath had slowed before pulling out.

He lifted her off the counter only to spin her around and lift her up again, this time, her breasts pressed against the counter top, into the warmth, the moistness that remained from her sweat. She felt him spread her legs apart, his fingers sliding into her sex. “Oh, still so ready for me,” he growled, nipping at her ear as he leaned over her. His fingers lingered for a moment and then he grasped her hips, pulling her back onto himself. She gasped for a moment, not pained, only surprised, as she felt him hit a secret spot inside. He thrust again, hitting it again, sending her into a frenzy once again. She tried to wriggle against him, using the counter as leverage to push back against him, to make him penetrate her further, but without her legs, it was useless.

Her grunts seemed to only stoke Oakley’s fire more. He reached around her, a single finger feeling out for her nub and upon finding it, began to circle it, then, with each thrust, push gently upon it. 

Serena felt a flame shoot through her with each thrust. Her breath became ragged once again, her vocalizations came as hard and fast as her orgasm, her screams of, “Oh, God! Oh, Oakley,” muffled slightly by the counter top.

Her walls tightened around him and she felt his cock twitch as he thrust even harder, caught in his own spiral until his own release, pulling her down fully upon him as he thrust with his own apex, grunting, “Oh, fuck,” as he came. 

Oakley leaned over her back, kissed her spine and laid his cheek on her, not wanting just yet to pull himself from her. “This isn’t the most comfortable position,” she said against the counter.

He withdrew and lifted her down, turning her towards him, then, hands on the counter, caged her in and leaned his forehead against her. “Now about that wager…”

She smiled. “You win.” Serena ducked under his arms and began walking down the hallway. She turned to look at him and with a devilish grin asked, “Are you up for a rematch?”


End file.
